


Cracked Reflections

by sniperct



Series: Keep Running [2]
Category: Mirror's Edge
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith and Kate have gone to ground in the wake of the events in the Shard.  Hiding out with a retired runner named Wraith, their plans to smuggle Kate and Faith out of the city get scuttled when they're discovered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Flow

My feet move to the pounding of my heart. The rush in my ears and the wind on my skin as the soundtrack to my life. Far below, the people of this city move around their daily lives, unwilling to see the truth.

I’ve needed this. The ground world is loud and chaotic. It’s impossible to think. But up here with just the wind I can find the flow and become _alive_ again.

A pipe blocks my path and I vault over it. My palms slap against the wall as I adjust my direction without losing momentum. The ramp is just ahead and in seconds I’m suspended in the air. Time slows. A dove’s wings beat slowly above me. My heart rises to my throat. There’s sky all above me and below me only air.

Neither rising or falling I'm suspended in the deadpoint. Zero gravity, that thrill in the pit of my stomach. It tingles in my limbs and to my left I see myself reflected in the perfect glass of the perfect office building. 

The moment passes and I’m falling. A rooftop rushes towards me, the impact rippling through my feet and rattling my teeth. I roll, spreading out the energy of the landing and I’m back in the flow. Windows speed past, pipes and car-sized air conditioners becoming blurs as though I’m racing through an industrial forest. Not too long ago, I ferried that most precious of cargo from one place to another. _Information_. Ideas. Hope. The one thing the authorities strove to control more than anything else. That’s too dangerous now.

I start to slow down as I get closer to my destination. Home. Or something as close to home as I have now. A safe haven until we can smuggle Kate out of the city. I don’t know if I’ll go with her, I haven’t decided yet and my run has only made me more conflicted. The city isn’t safe and while I’ve been running my whole life it’s always been towards something, never away from it.

The building is abandoned and decrepit. One of the many dirty secrets the city hides beneath the veneer. Like the city itself the outside is polished but inside is rot. But it’s warm and sheltered, and on the eighth floor and through a green door waits my sister and Wraith. Wraith was a runner like me, but she retired a few years ago. She’s in her thirties, with mahogany skin and black hair cropped close to her skull. Like most runners, she has tattoos. Wraith’s are all sharp lines. Buildings run up one arm like a cityscape. On her other arm is the reverse. Sewers and dungeons, with terrible things looking out towards the viewer. She could have turned us away, but she let us in without question.

I toss my bag on the table and walk into the bathroom. The mirror is dirty and I smear it trying to clean it. The woman staring back at me is so tired, but she’ll just have to keep running.

“Kate?” I leave the bathroom and walk across the hall, opening the door to the room I share with my sister. She’s not there. Who greets me is a blonde woman, hair hanging in a loose ponytail. She looks as startled as I am, lashing out first with a kick at my chest. I grab her leg, twisting with my body and knocking her other foot out from under her. She hits the ground and rolls, trying to break past me. I clothesline her, then grab her pony-tail and yank hard.

Celeste doesn’t cry out until I’ve dropped onto her chest with my knees. She tries to push me off. I bloody her nose with the palm of my hand. I could do a lot more damage to her. I want to. She was my _friend_ and she betrayed us. Joined the fucking _blues_! She claws at my arms and I pin her by the wrists. “Cel. What the _fuck_?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You don’t ask questions. I ask questions.” Even with a bloodied nose she’s beautiful. Yes, that’s another reason her being a traitor hurts. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Heard rumors about plans to round up some loose runners. Wanted to check it out myself.”

Shit. Worrying about Kate and Wraith distracts me. Cel slams her forehead into my face. My head snaps back and she dislodges me. I land on my stomach with the blonde on top of me. She wrenched my arm around _hard_. She whispers in my ear. “Didn’t I tell you that survival is overrated?”

Spitting out blood, I reply, “You call this living a little?”

The weight is off my back, and I cautiously pick myself up. Cel’s mouth and chin are covered in blood. Her shirt is messed up and she’s breathing a little heavily. I’m not in much better condition but I shift into a ready stance, feet positioned evenly.

“Shit, Faith don’t do this. You know they want you dead? They’re not even playing around. Not after what you did.” She backs up a step when I taunt her with a mock jab. “You’ve got about twenty minutes before this place is swarming with cops.”

It takes me a few to realize what she’s doing. “Celeste, what are you-”

“Fucking _go!_ ”

I glare at her. She’s supposed to be the bad guy now. She’s not supposed to help me and I can’t trust her.

“Faith _please_ , It’s _never_ been personal. I don’t want to see you dead.”

I point a finger at her. “This _doesn’t_ make up for framing Kate.”

She doesn’t have a response, so I don’t have to hit her. I just need to get out of there, and do the thing I’m best at. I run.

We have several places that we set up for emergencies. They’re all pretty far away. I don’t have any means to contact them but I trash the exit so Kate and Wraith will immediately know something is wrong. Once I’m on the roof again, I peek around looking for any blues or other signs that the coast isn’t clear. I don’t see anything so I begin to job. The first place I need to check are the tunnels. They’re six miles away, through increasingly less secure parts of the city. The mayor keeps talking about cleaning the area out but nothing ever gets done.

I’m too nervous to move as fast as I want, not until I get more distance. A mile from Wraith’s place I switch from a jog to a full on run. I think about this stupid situation Kate and I are in. Why Cel let me go, and that look on her face when I’d run past her. I wanted to smash her nose in again but that’s not going to make me feel better. 

Well it will, but it’s too late to go back now. The last mile is a maze of cranes and half-constructed buildings. I can’t think about anything else except not falling to my death. I rarely worry about that. Call it overconfidence, call it experience or call it pure stubborn willpower but I’m as sure on my feet as a cat.

Wraith had set up a series of ramps and tubes, and I leap from one to the other all the way down to the ground. The hatch gives me some difficulty, but I get it home and looked down. I can’t stand being underground. I have nightmares about the cargo ship. I find my courage, and slide down the ladder into the darkness.


	2. Closed In

It’s very dark. I can’t see very far, but my feet know where to go. There’s enough light from gratings above that I’m not at risk of breaking my neck and someone has dropped some glow sticks to help light the path. That means Wraith and my sister have already been through here. I wrinkle my nose at the smell and try to ignore how much that _hurt_. Celeste got me good.

At the end of the tunnel is a cavernous room and I stop feeling so closed in. Several old, rusted shipping containers lay inside, converted into makeshift rooms to live in. I don’t like this bolt hole but we don’t really have much of a choice. Not with the blues breathing down our necks. I think back on my encounter with Cel, but it only makes me more confused about what’s happening. She didn’t have to let me go, and there’s nothing stopping her from following me. I keep glancing back, uncertain on if I evaded anyone or not.

“Faith! You’re okay!” 

It’s Kate, and I crash into her and hug her roughly. We have a lot to catch up on. Our lives may have gone in different directions for such a long time but now we’re together again and I’m not going to let anything get in the way of that. My unease and discomfort washes away in my twin’s arms.

“I was worried about you. I got snuck up on while I was at Wraith’s.” Taking a step back I look her over, and I’m satisfied she’s okay. Kate touches my face and I wince.

“I’m the one that should be worried.” It’s easy to forget she was a cop. Then she uses her cop voice. “Your nose is broken.”

“It’s fine.” It really isn’t. It started bothering me as soon as I got into the tunnels but I kept telling myself it was the constricted feeling. This area is like a cavern but with no sky overhead I feel constantly on edge. 

With absolutely no warning, my sister grabs my nose and snaps it back into place. I shout loudly enough to wake the dead and bat her away. “What did I do to deserve that?!”

“Save my life, brat.” 

Sitting on an old, falling apart sofa, I cradle my nose and my pride as the pain makes the room spin. I feel her weight next to me and lean in to touch shoulder to shoulder. “Celeste was there. She warned me away. Not before we fought.”

“I gathered.” Kate’s tone is biting, and I know there’s more she’s going to say when she puts her arm around me. Her tone gentles. “Maybe she wants to help you. She was a friend once.”

“She _framed_ you. For the murder of someone who might have actually done some good!” The vitriol wells up like a flood and I dig my nails into my palms. I don’t want to give Celeste a chance. Pope was a good man and one of the few ties to our mother we’d had left. Dad didn’t count. There’s nothing she could do to make up for what she did, and what she continues to do by siding with the blues. She’d hated the fuckers as much as I did. “You need to stop seeing good everywhere. It doesn’t exist.”

“ _You_ need to trust again.” A raspy voice interrupted our argument before it could get heated. Wraith has wandered up to us with me noticing. She’s wearing grey, baggy pants and has on a white jacket. There’s a yellow stripe down the back, and the sleeves are too long to see her tattoos. I lift my head to look into her russet eyes. She holds out her hand. “Come on, Faith. Lets walk an’ talk.”

Kate nudges me. “I’m going to look over those maps we found again. There has to be an easier way out of the city.”

“Know what they say about doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?” Wraith’s tone is sardonic. I smack my palm against her shoulder as I pass.

“Lay off my sister.”

“All in good fun.” The woman’s smile is big and toothy as she glances back at Kate. 

Irritation starts to press against the back of my eyes and I rub gingerly at my temple. “She’s _not_ interested.” It was one of the first differences Kate and I discovered about each other. And maybe I’m not ready to share her with anyone else.

“Let a girl have hope, huh?” Wraith clapped her hand on my shoulder. She’s lost some of her runner’s lankiness, replacing it with muscle and some added bulk, so there was some unexpected strength behind her hand.

“Trust me, you don’t have a chance, so don’t make her uncomfortable.” I hold up a hand before she decides she can hit on me. “And I only date people who can keep up with me.”

Giving her a shove, I take off. Wraith’s laugh follows behind me. After that, the only thing I can hear is the sound of our feet echoing through the tunnels. As long as I’m running I can keep the panic away. I’ve never been able to handle enclosed places or large groups of people, but after the ship and the Shard it’s worse. If I don’t keep moving it’ll all collapse onto me. It starts to, the tunnel constricting until there’s only a dim white light in the distance. I’m going to be swallowed up and buried and the only way out is to _keep running_. Reach that light, reach freedom. Before I know it, my lungs are burning and the muscles in my legs are tight. Slowing and then stopping, I lean against the tunnel wall, gulping in gasps of air.

“Fuck…” Wraith’s voice echoes softly in the tunnels. By the time she’s close enough to see me I manage to only look winded. “Faith, when you really cut an’ run you really cut an’ run. Guess I’m not goin’ to be datin’ you anytime soon.”

We grin at each other, and I slide down the wall before my legs give out. “My loss, I guess.”

“You know, I thought you and Mercury had a thing. I wanted to hit him since you were so young.” She slid down next to me. I watched her pull out a pack of cigarettes. I’m not sure where she could have gotten one, they were expensive and heavily regulated.

“No wonder you can’t keep up.” Scooting away to save my lungs I rest my chin on my knees. “Only in your dreams. He was my mentor. My brother. That’s all, and that’s all either of us ever wanted.”

Talking about Merc is one sure way to get me into a bad mood. “He’s gone now and we’re stuck in the sewers until we can figure out a way to slip out of the city.”

Wraith takes a long drag of her cigarette, the soft glow from the butt casting her face in shades of red and orange. “You don’t want to leave.”

I lean my head against the cement of the tunnel, closing my eyes. I envision the sky above me, blue and serene and dotted with clouds. The rush of air through my hair, the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The thought of losing all of that was enough to induce another panic attack. “No. But we don’t have a choice.”


	3. Caged

They’re so fast. The blues must have been getting more intense training, while I’m getting rusty from not being able to run as much. My escape route is perilous, the platform only a few inches across and stretching out over infinity. Ahead of me is a billboard advertising the latest soft drink, the model with dead eyes and a fake body staring mindlessly at me as I propel myself along her. The drop onto the next roof is farther than I estimated and my legs ache as I roll. I hear a man scream behind me but I don’t look back. That’ll buy me some more time. And if I have time, then Kate has time. That’s the whole point of this, to take the heat off of my sister while Wraith gets her out of the city. 

I abruptly run out of roof and jump. It’s a gamble, and I’m falling. The air rushing past my face and through my hair cools my skin. I almost think I’ve over shot before I hit the airbag. It _hurts_ but that doesn’t stop me from pulling myself to my feet and continuing to run. I’ve distracted them enough that I need to find a place to bolt to and hide. I didn’t think much past getting my sister out of the city. Nothing else matters, and Wraith is right, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live in a place where I can’t feel the wind in my face and have the rooftops as my playground. Running on the ground just isn’t the same. 

It’ll never be the same.

Crossing from one building to the next, I can hear pursuers again. Sometimes, it’s easy to fall into predictability, but today I’m going to do something new. A door rushes up towards me as I pound my feet on the roof, and then I’m breaking through. My shoulder slams into the door forcing it open and I slam it shut behind me.

The hallway is dark and the lights overhead flicker in random patterns. I walk, then jog down it. There should be a ventilation system I can take cover in. I’m moving quickly and I don’t see the arm swing out from a corner until it’s too late.

My ears are ringing when I come to. The first thing I notice is how tightly my ankles and wrists are bound. It’s uncomfortable, almost painful and the more I move the tighter the restraints get. What’s worse is I’m clearly moving. I feel a wave of panic and nausea and open my eyes. 

Celeste is sitting across from me, watching me. I want to strangle her. “You fucking clothlined me.”

“I had to stop you some how.” The blonde shrugs her shoulders and her answer just makes me angrier. I’m too sore and in no position to do anything about my anger. Instead, I sink back against the uncomfortable bench and hard metal wall. Kate isn’t here. She made it, and Wraith is safe too. The only person in danger is me and I can live with that.

Closing my eyes and sighing, I ask, “How long do I have before they decide to make an example of me?”

“I didn’t want it like this,” Cel says. She has a morose expression on her face and in other circumstances I’d feel pity. 

Instead there’s only regret. Regret that it’s come to this, regret that I ever called her a friend, regret that I didn’t see any of this coming in time to stop it. Maybe I could have made everything different. Leveling a look at her, I temper my response, “If you didn’t want it like this, why did you join them?”

“I just wanted to _run_.” Cel’s response sounds like something I’d say. But unlike her I’d taken my freedom. She’s just a puppet dancing to someone else’s strings.

This time I let some of that anger out, “Funny. You can only run so far when you’re tethered by someone’s _leash_.”

It hits a nerve and Celeste leaps across the small space between us. I slam back against the wall hard enough to rattle me and it takes several heartbeats to regain my senses. Cel’s face is inches from my own and her palms are pressed bruisingly hard into my shoulders. Her eyes are bright and for the first time in years they’re wild and full of life. This is the Celeste I’d known before and somewhere inside of me old feelings starts to stir against my will.

My pulse spikes from how close she is. “There’s all these grand conspiracies, Cel. Everything is fucked up and all I ever wanted to do was run, too. To run, to have my sister safe. Mercury. _You_.” My voice might have wavered on that last word but now that I’ve started I have to keep going. “But you fucked that up! It was all you!”

Her nails dig into my skin, her breath is hot against my lips and when she shifts her hips press into mine. It’s distracting. I don’t want to feel this way, not about her. She’s the _enemy_. A murderer and a coward. I turn my head before something happens that can’t be taken back, and her lips brush my ear. “It was gonna get fucked up sooner or later. I just… I just wanted more time.”

More time? She just wanted more time? Didn’t we all? She’s so close, she’s _too_ close. She smells like sweat and blood and wind. I can’t say how it happens. She kisses me, or I kiss her and I can _taste_ it on her. It’s desperate and wrong and it leaves me breathless and wanting more. And it _hurts_. Cel doesn’t look at me, her head turned to the side and her breath racing as fast as my pulse.

“This isn’t how I imagined ever tying you down,” she says, breaking the awkward silence between us.

The laugh bubbles up out of me as unexpectedly as the kiss. It’s bittersweet, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of crying. From the way her eyes glisten, that feeling must be mutual. Cel pulls away, letting me slide back down onto the bench. In other times, when she made my blood burn like this, I’d run. Run out my arousal, run out the hormones until I collapses in an exhausted mess. I don’t have that luxury right now. Cel settles down next to me and when I glance at her she has her head in her hands.

I have to hand it to her. She’s really good at this. I’m almost willing to believe she’s torn up over everything, except that’s another luxury I can’t afford. But maybe she is. Maybe she can do something for me. It wouldn’t make up for anything, but it would be nice. “Cel, can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“After they kill me, can you take my ashes and-”

“ _No_!” Cel spits the word out vehemently, her eyes wild and wet. “Fuck you! Fuck you, Faith!” She gets to her feet and storms across to the opposite seat again, trying to get as far away from me as possible. 

I don’t understand her reaction. Or maybe I’m just not willing to.


	4. Running

The rest of the ride goes by in silence. Celeste looks at me a few times, but when I glance at her she looks away. I’m still confused, and angry, but there’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t run it off because I’m trapped, and I can’t work it off with Cel even if I want to.

Maybe I want to. The thought makes me feel sick. Cel nearly got my sister executed and me killed. I can’t ever forget the murder of a good man. But the way she’s sitting is telling me a lot about her state of mind. She’s angry too. Conflicted. 

The transport rolls to a stop right around the time I’ve worked up the courage to ask her some questions. I guess it’s the end of the line. If I’m lucky they’ll do it quickly, but somehow I think they’ll want to drag it out. There’s no telling what they’ll actually to do me. 

Celeste gets up and walks over, pulling me to my feet. Our bodies are touching and there’s this buzzing inside me and on my lips. We could kiss again. Instead I just stare impassively into her eyes. “You won’t be any freer after they kill me. You’ll still be on that leash, you’ll still be their lapdog taking the scraps that fall off the plate.” 

“ _Faith_.” Cel’s voice shakes on my name, even though she growls it through her teeth. The sound of it makes me want to tell her all the things I’ve kept to myself. The way I felt the day we met, the way she always made me feel when we ran together.

Cel undoes the bindings on my legs, then stands again. I stare into her eyes, but the door opens before I can say anything. What does it matter, anyway? Those feelings are so old now, and wasted on who she’s become. She’d just throw it back into my face.

I’m nearly thrown off my feet when the vehicle rocks. It’s like it’s been hit by an explosion. I shove past Cel, and jump out thinking I can use the chaos of whatever is happening to escape. I’m not expecting to see Wraith on a nearby building holding a large tube. I realize what it is seconds before she fires another rocket and dive for cover. The transport is blown onto it’s side and takes out an escort vehicle with it. There’s a down officer and I take the keys off of him to free my hands.

This is my chance. I run for it, climbing onto a crane and using it to reach the roof tops. They won’t be able to catch me this time, I’m not about to let them. Not with the wind in my face, not with the adrenaline in my veins and the heat in my stomach that’s threatening to burn me up. Fuck Cel. Fuck her for doing this to me. And fuck the blues and fuck me for worrying about her, left in that transport while Wraith fires rockets.

That fuels me, fuels my run. I can’t feel the ground anymore, my feet barely touch it. The only sound is the sound of the air rushing past my ears. It’s strangely peaceful. The heat spreads from my core and out to my limbs, my muscles aching from exertion but the whole experience pleasant. 

There’s a jump coming up and I hit it at full stride. It feels _wonderful_. When I hit the dead-point, it’s better than sex. I’m suspended in the air again and I wish I could stay there forever, but everything in my life is about motion. I get a few seconds of pure bliss before I’m dropping down onto a roof. 

If anyone is pursuing me, I’ve lost them. I give my legs a break, slowing to a jog and trying to get my bearings. I don’t see Wraith. A dreadful feeling makes me think that Kate is probably with her. Either they couldn’t make it out of the city, or more likely Kate made Wraith come and save me. Damn them _both_.

I don’t stop, though. I simply can’t afford to. Just keep moving. Keep moving, keep running until the world falls away. For a moment I forget the danger I’m in and when I startle a blue I’m thrown back into the real world. My fist hits his throat, and I grab his head and bring it down onto my knee. His faceplate shatters. Kicking him away, I resume my run, leaving both him and his weapons.

Guns. I hate them. I hate using them, I hate the sound of them and the smell of gunpowder. If I never had to hold one again it would be too soon. It’s not that I’m a bad shot, I just hate what they represent. Killing and death, and oppression.

A helicopter looms in front of my right as I take a leap. Visions of being chopped to bits by the rotors dance in my head and I swing my arms and legs trying to change my trajectory. The chopping is loud in my ears and I can feel the rush over my head as I pass beneath them. I hit the side of the helicopter with my feet, and the pilot inside looks absolutely terrified. Great. It’s not like I could punch through the glass. I drop instead and grab onto the skids, swinging from one to the other and falling onto a suspended platform. I must have hit it a little too hard, because a cable snaps and it jerks once before spilling me off into the air. I catch myself on a ledge and pull myself up while the helicopter tries to turn around and come back for me. 

A barrel flashes on the side of the aircraft as glass shattered all around me. There’s no where to go, no where to run and I’m falling again, bullets raining past me all the way down.


	5. Falling (and Falling)

It was strange being the veteran. I've spent so much time under Mercury's wing that when Celeste comes in I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I guess we'll run and see what she's capable of. 

I look her over. She's tall, but her clothing is too tight. Loose pants are better, you don't want to constrain your ability to jump and move. But the view is nice, and she catches me looking. I stick my chin up. "You'll need to change. You'll end up ripping your pants or falling to your death."

Celeste's grin is cocky. "Want to help?"

I've never thought about that before, with anyone, and now I think I'm going to be thinking about it too much. But I don't take her bait. "I'll meet you on the roof."

Turning, I ignore her laugh. It's the only thing I can do, because I don't know how the other runners would deal with...something like that. The last gay runner I knew about was Wraith and she's been retired for awhile now.

Celeste suddenly pins me against the wall. Her breath ghosts over the back of my neck. "Are you sure you don't want to help?"

"Are you sure you don't want to eat your teeth?" I’m sure my voice sounds a lot less steady than I want it to.

She laughs again (why does that send tingles down my spine?) and pulls away. "All right, I'll be up in a few minutes."

This time, I watch her to make sure she's going and I have the distinct impression that I've just passed some kind of test. At least I hope I’ve passed it, I don’t know what it means if I’ve failed, and I really hate failing.

-

Cel is a fast learner, and at first she’s all business when we’re out. But as she gets more experience she falls into the same trap as the rest of us. She relaxes, she banters, and she flirts. With everyone, not just me.

It gets on my nerves, the banter, I mean. When I’m running, I prefer to be alone. No-one in my ear, just the wind and the sounds of the city. So I always hate running with someone else because most of them are too fucking chatty. I’m glad when Cel gets to start running on her own. 

Somehow, we end up spending off-time together. Runners don’t usually hang out in groups larger than three and I don’t mind the company. When she’s not being obnoxious she’s fun to hang around. Somewhere between speed and obstacle contests (I usually won) and hanging out on ledges with a couple of beers(she usually provided) we became friends.

My feet are dangling a dozen stories up as we sit on a thin ledge, looking out at the world. Cel is pretty close, closer than she usually gets and we’ve fallen silent. Her hand edges over mine, and I let her. She straddles me suddenly, dangerous and precarious and the only thing keeping her from tumbling back and into the street below are my hands on her back. There’s no escape for me that won’t get Cel killed and that _trust_ she’s given me freezes me in place when her mouth presses against my own. I can't move without killing her, even if that's what I want to do. 

We're like that for I don't know how long, mouths moving against each other. I’m making sounds I didn’t know I could make, but I’m conscious of how thin this ledge is and how easily we could fall. The danger makes my skin burn. Cel is flush against me, our bodies rocking slowly together and I’m building up towards something I’ve never shared with another person before. The wind is pounding in my ear, or maybe that's my pulse, or both. Cel's hand slides into my tank top. I don't stop her I _can't_ stop her, and my skin is so hot I’m afraid it’ll burn her.

"Cel, you're going to get us killed..." I’m so dizzy and her hand is warm and electric.

She nips at my jaw as I try to catch my breath. “I have faith that you’ll catch me if I fall.”

“If you make a pun like that again I’m letting go.” The blood starts to rush in my ears again as her fingers drag down my stomach.

“You’d never.” Cel kisses me again, and just before she makes me see stars I pray that she’ll never let me go either.

-

There’s no one to catch _me_ as I fall. They say your life flashes before you. There’s not much to my life. Losing mom. Dad’s alcoholism. Kate, Mercury and the runners. Celeste. It runs on loop in my head. A thousand things I could have done different. A thousand things that I’ve done right. At least I’m going down running, going down in the one place that I’ve ever belonged.

I could close my eyes, but I want to see the sky when I die. It’s this gorgeous shade of azure blue. It’s just like running. I can feel the rush, feel my stomach floating inside me. I’m moving so fast. Always moving, right up the end.

Something grabs my arm and it wrenches painfully. Celeste has my forearm in a tight grip as we rush down a zipline. Her eyes are deep and earthy, they contrast against the gold of her hair and the blue sky.

I look away as we near the end of the line and let go when there’s ground underneath me, tucking and rolling. I’m on my feet and ready to run, and see Celeste bounce up next to me. She goes ahead of me, and I follow. 

I don’t hear the gunshot. I don’t think Cel does either. We’ve barely taken two steps before there’s a spray of blood and shattered bone where her knee used to be.


	6. Pausing for Breath

I drag and carry Cel, yell at her when she stumbles and tells me to go on and somehow we get underground. If I didn’t have to drag her around, I could be much farther away right now. Maybe even out of the city. Part of me wants to leave her behind. She asks me to, demands that I let her go. She doesn’t beg, and maybe that’s why I keep dragging her with me. But when I tell myself that I know I’m lying. I’ll keep her with me until she’s dead or we’re caught.

I don’t understand her. She’s a murderer, a killer who works with the corrupt people in charge of this city. She betrayed everything I ever cared about and ran all over my heart while she was at it. But she saved my life today, and the cost is her knee. I don’t have the words to truly say just what that means.

It’s a mess, too. There’s blood and bone shards everywhere and I’ve used up most of my shirt in an attempt to keep her from bleeding to death. Just jostling it is enough to make Cel cry out in pain, which makes my stomach wrench uncomfortably. So I stretch it out, and rewrap it with some discarded piping as a splint to keep it still. 

“Faith, just leave me here.” She sounds so tired, like the fight has gone out of her.

“No.” She has to understand what she’s lost. She’ll _never_ be able to run again and it’s _my_ fault. I look into Cel’s eyes, for the first time since she’d been shot. They’re dull and glassy, like she’s given up. She knows. That’s why she wants me to leave her. Well fuck her. “Why did you help me?”

Cel averts her eyes, and pushes herself into a sitting position. I wipe my hands in my pants and sit next to her. “Cel. Help me understand. What could possibly be more important to you than your life? Than _running_?”

She laughs. She fucking _laughs_ , and tilts her head back. “You’re so stupid sometimes. You ever think I’d be the one to catch you? Always thought it would be the other way around. Kept stumbling around you. Then I let you go when you couldn’t take it.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t let go after what you did?” My hands are warm and still slick with her blood. I can’t get them completely wiped clean, so I just bunch them up in my lap when Cel puts her arm around me.

“Call it a gut feeling.” I almost miss it, her voice is so quiet. I stare at her leg, at the implications swimming in the back of my mind. Cel leans her head on my shoulder. “Just let me go, Faith. I don’t have anything left now. Even if I don’t bleed out I’ll be in a brace for the rest of my life. I’ll hate you for it.”

“What else will is new?” I try to make it sound like a joke, to lighten the mood, but it falls flat and full of bitterness. “At least you’ll be alive.”

“Alive and half a person.” She shifts around, whimpering. I don’t call her on it, I let her have her dignity. Something cold is pressed into my hands and I look down at a pistol, then at Cel’s face. She presses her forefinger against her forehead. “One shot. Make it clean. _Please_.”

“No!” I push the gun aside, and out of Cel’s reach. The last time I’d heard her say please had been when she’d begged me to run before the cops showed up. I’m starting to hate that word. “I’m sorry you got shot! I’m sorry you lost… that you lost everything you lived for! But you can’t save my life and then bail on me!”

“Tenacious bitch. Always loved that about you. Hated that too. But loved it.” Her hand creeps into my hair and she pressed cold lips against my forehead. “I had a choice, you know. I made the wrong one. I should have-”

“Cel, shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

I don’t fall for it, and instead drag myself to my feet and take in our surroundings. There’s a broken down door and some old bungie cords. I can probably make a sled. 

“ _Faith_.” I look back at her, the pain in her voice tying my heart in knots. I know what she’s going to say next. I don’t want to hear it, I _can’t_ hear it right now.

“Shut _up_. We’re not doing this! You’re not allowed a deathbed confession! You’re not dying. And you’re going to run again.”

“God, you’re so stupid. I’m not making it. We both know it. Let me _have_ this! I know I don’t deserve it, god knows I don’t but let me _have_ his.”

I have to kneel down and hold Cel still at the shoulders before she can try to get up. “You’re just going to have to hate me.” Her eyes have her spark again. They’re watery and hard as she looks at me. Let her hate me, it’s not like we’d worked out the first time. But if she’s hating me, it means she’s alive, and I can live with that. We can be in hate with each other. 

I’m so tired tired and sick to my stomach and a gamut of emotions are drowning me. Three times, Cel ambushed me, back when we were still friends. Three times she made it impossible for me to escape, three times I begged and pleaded for it. And one time I told her I loved her.

This time I’m the one forcing my lips onto hers. This time it’s _her_ sharp intake of breath against _my_ mouth. It’s all I can take from her right now, and I don’t let her say it. She doesn’t have to.

“If you want more than that,” I whisper to her. “You just need to hold together until we get to safety.”

“Never knew you were into bribery, Connors.” Her voice is frighteningly faint.

The words snap out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’ll let you have whatever you want if you shut up and let me save you.”

Her eyes spark again, and that cocky grin I love to hate returns. “You’re going to regret that.”

“You know what?” I push over the broken door and start to drag it over. Who knows what she wants if it keeps her going. “Maybe I won’t.”


	7. Kindling Hope

I lose track of the hours as I drag Cel through the tunnels. There are long gaps of silence, and then she’ll make a comment. How lovely the top of the tunnel looks. The loveliness of the rancid smell as we pass over gratings to the sewer underneath. She’s in a foul mood and it only makes my own worse. I’m relieved when I see sunlight, and I jostle her as I start running towards it. She can deal with a little jostling, especially since it shuts her up.

We’re in a part of town the runners didn’t often go. The buildings all look alike and getting here via our usual routes meant at least a mile on the ground. If someone paid enough, we did it, but none of us liked it.

This is someone here who can help, though. Wraith’s brother lives in this neighborhood and by all accounts he’s an ally. He’s probably the only chance Cel has right now. I look down at her. She’s so pale. She looks at me, and the emotion in her eyes makes me uncomfortable. I’d almost rather have her complaining. I look away before she can see the reflection in mine, but it’s probably too late for that.

Pulling her over behind a dumpster, I get her settled. “I’ll be about five minutes. I’m going to need help getting you somewhere without being seen. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll just _run_ away.” Her tone is scathing and I don’t have anything I can say to that. Her fingers slide across my cheek and into my hair, and I don’t stop her when she pulls me down. Our lips meet again, and the walls of denial I’ve built up crumble away.

-

_Celeste is on top of me. Her fingers are pushing and stroking and pinching and I'm lost to the world. I can smell the sweat of our bodies, feel the muscles of her back flex under my fingers, hear the way our breathing comes so ragged and racing. And those_ fingers _. They're strong and nimble and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to scream her name. I muffle myself against Cel's neck as she brings me back down slowly. Where she was rushed and heated she's now gentle. One hand caresses my face, and my hair._

_When I think I can see again, I pull my head back to look at her. She's got a cocky grin on her face, and I wish I had the energy to wipe it off._

_"If I didn't know better," she tells me. "You were easier to catch that time."_

_"If I made it too easy you'd give up." This time I'm the one petting her face and hair. I don't know if I'm in love with her. If I'm ready for that. Maybe I never will be. I'm not ready when she kisses me. I'm not ready when Cel's words slip out against my lips._

_I barely get my clothing on before I'm out Cel's door and I'm running. Burn away the adrenaline burn away the emotions. I have to run_

-

Would things be different if I hadn't run away? I muse on that as Cel rests her head in my lap. Wraith's brother (a stocky man named Bishop) works at a nearby hospital. He does the best he can for Cel's knee, but he doesn't have the equipment he needs. I'm forced to disentangle myself from Cel so we can talk about it without her overhearing.

He hands me some coffee, and even though my hands are now clean I still wipe them on my pants when I take the cup. "It's bad isn't it."

"With a brace, she'll be able to walk again. Not normally, and she'll never run." His eyes are kind, dark pools of empathy. Cel is the one that deserves that, not me. He seems to sense my guilt, and puts a hand on my shoulder. "There's an alternative. I'll tell her about it when she's coherent, but she's gonna need your help."

"You don't even need to ask twice. What would I have to do?"

He doesn't get a chance to answer. The back door opens, and it's Wraith and Kate. I'm in my twin's arms in the space of two heartbeats and I squeeze her back hard enough to choke the life out of her. "What were you doing?! You should be twenty miles outside the city by now!"

"I couldn't leave you to die, Faith." She leans her forehead against my own. "You gave up everything for me."

“And it would have all been for _nothing_ if they got to you, Kate!” Maybe it’s not fair to yell and maybe being exhausted isn’t the best excuse, but I don’t really care. “You’re all that matters. You’re _all_ that matters.”

“Not all,” Wraith says, nodding her head towards the other room where Celeste is. And she’s right. I dragged that woman how far just to get her to safety? 

But I refuse to admit it. I’m not going to give them the satisfaction. “I owed her, that’s all. It’s my fault she’s hurt.”

For what it’s worth, Kate takes my yelling in stride. “What’s the story with you two, anyway? I mean, I know you… oh. Oh.”

“No.” I wag my finger in front of her face. “It’s not like that. Okay? We were just friends with benefits.”

The lie tastes terrible and I step away from my sister. “Bishop, what do I have to do to help Cel?”

The man has been standing there this whole time, pinching the bridge of his nose while I have my episode. “You all done now?”

Wraith’s laugh grates on my nerves. “Looks like it. Okay, what’re you planning?”

“Grand theft prosthesis.” He gestured for us to follow him. We passed Cel, still out on the couch, and though I want to stop and check on her I keep walking. I don’t even look at her, not with Kate and Wraith there. 

Upstairs, he shows us some magazines. They’re all medical journals, and in one there’s an artificial limb. It looks fairly realistic and according to the accompaning text promises to be the most advanced to reach production. “If you want her to run again, you’re gonna want one of these.”

I trace my fingers along the picture. “Will it?”

“Athletes have been using them since before the 2012 Olympics, Faith.” He took the magazine from me. “I’m sure with practice she’ll adapt.”

My mind is made up before I open my mouth. “What do you need for this?”

“Faith…” Kate put her hand on my arm. “Think about this for a second. You’re talking about robbing a hospital. I… well I’m not a cop anymore but that just kind of strikes me as wrong.”

“No more wrong than shooting someone in the knee mid run. Or trying to execute a good cop who was in the wrong place.” I turn from Kate back to Bishop. “What do you need?”

“Her consent first. And then I’ll need the prosthetic, and I have a list of tools too. But Faith.” There was a note of caution in Bishop’s voice. It’s not a note I like, and I sigh. “I’ll need to amputate her leg.”

“What?” A sinking sensation takes over and I prop myself up on the table. If we fuck this up, Cel could lose a leg, and be even worse off than she is right now. But if this works…”Okay. Okay. If she wants this, I’ll get it. I’ll get everything you need and then some.”

I didn’t think we need to ask. I already knew what Cel will say. I can already see the hope that’s going to kindle in her eyes. It’ll be a beautiful sight, and it’ll kill me if I end up extinguishing it.

Kate isn’t the only thing that matters. Wraith does, and Biship now, and Mercury always did. And Cel.

I can’t run away this time. I _love_ her.


	8. Love and Hate

Celeste is resting. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is relaxed. There isn’t much room on the bed, but I make it work somehow, curling against her right side. My face is in her hair, and I smell sweat and blood and tears. As long as she’s asleep, I can let myself feel how truly vulnerable I am. How she wormed her way back inside me and how much I hate her for it.

I’m crazy. Or stupid. Probably a little bit of both. I’m going to get Cel’s freedom back. She’ll run again. Maybe even better than before. I tell myself that as I tangle my fingers in her hair. It’s longer now. Longer than I’m used to and I hate it (but I love it), and it’s my tears not hers that I’m smelling.

I _hate_ crying.

She stirs and I wipe my eyes in her hair, turning my head so that there’s no way she can see how broken I am. “How are you feeling?” I can’t stand how tight my throat is. I need my game face, I need to be able to do this. I _owe_ her this.

“Terrible.” She shifts against me. Her hand pushes at me, pushes until I’ve got no choice but to lift my head. “The fuck you crying for. I’m the one that should be crying.”

“We found a way to fix your leg,” I tell her. She struggles with that. Hope and fear warring behind her deep blue eyes. She doesn’t trust me. Or maybe she doesn’t think she should. I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t trust me either. But I press on. “There’s a prosthesis at the hospital. Bishop says he can attach it.”

There’s that hope again. Cel is still waiting for the downside, the thing that’ll crush her hope like a bug. She doesn't have blind hope in her anymore. “But?” 

“I can steal it, but he’ll have to amputate, Cel. Right now you might be able to walk, but with this leg you can _run_ again.”

Her eyes harden. I feel her heart racing under my finger tips. “But if he fucks it up I’ll lose even that much. And stealing, Faith? You’re going to steal from a fucking hospital? Do you have any idea how much security are in those places? You’re going to get yourself killed, and for what, a small chance that I’ll run and a big chance I’ll lose what’s left of my fucking leg?”

I sit up, but I don’t look at her. My eyes are probably puffy and red and somehow I think that’ll undercut my words. ““Yes. I’m going to steal this fucking thing. So you have until I get back to decide if you’re going to use it or not.”

Slipping out of bed, I’m stopped when she grabs my hand. There’s a bit of the old Celeste back in her eyes again. “You don’t have to do this. I fucked up my knee for you, you could throw that away if you get caught or killed.” Like that's her only concern, her knee. I know better. I don't call her out on it.

“That’s why I have to.” I try to shake her grip, but she tugs on me. I stop myself from landing on top of her, propped up by one hand. Her lips crush against mine, violent and needy and I give in and let her have this. I want it, I need it, I need _her_ , and I need to her understand what she’s taking from me. I can't go back to the way things were before between us. Or completely forgive her what she's done. She’s taken so much, but then she went and gave the thing that means the most to her to save my life. But here we are, passion and fear fueling us. I let her take my heart again, but then, I don’t think she ever gave it back to begin with.

“I hate you,” I rasp.

“No you don’t,” she tells me. Cel even takes my lies from me. Her fingers unclasp my belt. Her kissing is sloppy and I don’t know what kind of painkillers she’s on. I tell myself I don’t care. Her skin feels like silk under my hands. I used to know her body. It’s scars and it’s bumps. I used to know her smell, and the way the muscles rippled in her thighs when my head was between them. But everything’s different now. I stop her hands (reluctantly). I refasten my belt.

“ _Faith_...” Her voice breaks on my name. 

“You’re high as a kite.” I have to ignore how she's looking at me right now.

“I _hate_ you,” she growls.

“No. You don’t.”

Cel’s head drops back against her pillow, her breathing as ragged and uneven as mine. "Faith, I don't want to live if I can't run. If I lose my leg over this, or if you can't get that thing..."

She's given up. All the fight has gone out of her and ice settles in my chest as what's at stake rears it's head. I don't even know if I can stop her if that's the choice she makes. Run or die. Be free or die. There's no other alternative.


	9. The Heist

**Then.**

_Celeste has me in her lap. My jacket is hanging from a gargoyle and my shirt is pushed up to my neck. Her fingers are hard and calloused and tracing Runners’ paths across my body. Her nails dig into my back as my hand eases between us. There’s nothing but air behind me and I wonder if that thrill I feel down my spine is the same one she felt when our positions were reversed. Celeste gasps into my mouth when I find her center, her kisses growing rougher and more demanding with every passing second. Her free hand wriggles it’s way into my pants and it’s like lightning on my skin._

_I beg her name, I plead it out in a long whine, but when she says my name, when she cries it against my throat, I say something else. I say the something I don’t mean to say, and for some reason she only holds me tighter._

_My face is reflected in the mirror-like glass of the building we’re perched against as we catch our breath. My hair is tousled, and there’s the ragged blonde faux hawk of Celeste tucked under my chin. Our skin is slick with sweat, and there are angry red marks down her back from my fingers. I barely have nails, so they’re fading quickly. I realize the stains on my face are from tears. Does ‘I love you’ count in the throes of passion?_

**Now**

Night settles over the city. The lights reflect off of the clouds, casting everything with an orange glow. It's not as dark as I'd like it, but it's better than daylight. I crouch, staring down at the hospital and trying to gauge how much resistance I'm going to encounter. It's so cold looking. There's no soul, no life to the building. It’s just sterile metal and glass, as impeccably clean as the rest of this goddamn city.

Standing, I judge my first jump, and then leap to the neighboring rooftop. Blood rushes in my ears as I land and roll. I have to make a circle, crossing six buildings to reach the hospital, and the last leap is a huge one. My longest in years. The ledge rushes up towards me faster than I'm ready for and my feet miss it by inches. My chest smashes into the steel and in my shock and pain I nearly fall before I grab on. As I pull myself up I have to fight the urge to pass out from the pain. Even breathing hurts. I stare at the clouds in the glass until I feel like I can move without screaming. I've run with worse, a few broken ribs aren't going to stop me.

I gain access a hundred meters along the ledge. The grating leads into the air circulation shaft and from there I creep inside. It's a patient floor, lined with room after room of sick and injured. It's as cold in here as it looked from outside and I shiver. These people must be freezing to death. 

I'm on the eighth floor, which means I need to go down two stories to find Cel's leg. The only stop I make is a nurse’s station. There’s an ugly welt just below my breasts, so I carefully wrap my ribs until it feels like I can breath again. I can’t risk taking anything good for the pain, but I down a half-dozen tylenol and toss a bottle of stronger stuff into my pack for later.

Taking the elevator would probably be stupid, so I make my way to the stairwell. It doesn’t look alarmed, and nothing happens when I cautiously push the door open. I descend down the stairs. 

I hate stairs, and right now every step jars my chest. It’s too crowded, too closed in and in a lot of ways it’s worse than the tunnels. I’m starting to think I actually do have claustrophobia when I have to pause and take several long (and painful) breaths halfway down. It’s a relief by the time I make it to the sixth floor. I still haven’t been discovered and in the wide, long hallways I feel like I can escape if I have to. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to, but it still feels like I can at least try and that makes a lot of difference.

If I remember the layout, my target should be down the next hallway. So far my incursion is unnoticed. It’s the kind of quiet anticipation that sets my teeth on edge. Any second, a guard could patrol pass. A nurse, or a doctor. Someone who would know that I don’t belong. If I’m found before I get my hands on that leg, I’m not going to be able to help Celeste. The very thought puts a screw to my gut.

The leg is in a lab, suspended in a glass case. There’s a case file nearby and I page through it, afraid the leg is destined for some kid. There’s just a lot of descriptions of it’s capabilities and a diagram of how it works. I put the whole thing into my pack. The leg is the hard part - I brought along some cargo straps, so carrying it shouldn’t be a problem. It’s getting it out of that case and out of the building that’s going to be the problem.

I kneel in front of the case to get a good look at it. It’s more realistic looking up close. I can still see the joints, but it looks like real skin. Diodes and wired stick out of the top of it, and there’s a piece that looks like it would fit over the stump left over on Celeste’s leg. 

There’s no obvious way to open the case. It looks like it’s supposed to slide open. I think it’s computer controlled, which means I’m not going to get it open easily. I think about Cel, above the look on her face when she’d realized just how badly I’d fucked up her leg. It’s my fault. I _have_ to do this.

Maybe I’m being a little selfish. Doing it to ease my guilt. But that’s not the only reason. I pick up a chair, and crash it into the side of the case. The glass shatters, and I reach through to pull the leg and it’s attachments out as sirens start wailing around me. I lose several precious seconds strapping it to my back and by the time I’ve ran into the hallway, guards have already responded. 

I turn and run. My ribs burn but I can use that. I can use that pain, and I do use that pain to put distance between me and the guards. The alarms are ringing and people are shouting. I nearly run over a nurse, skirting around him and spinning him around to slow down the guards. I have to get outside, I _have_ to!

Kicking open the door to the stairwell sends ribbons of pain throughout my chest. My feet clang on the stairs as I take two at a time. I rush out the door on the eighth floor, dodge past a confused looking patient and bolt for the air shaft. There’s a guard between me and it, and he has a gun.

The world slows down as I pick up speed. He’s shouting for me to stop. The gun in his hand is trembling and there’s more fear in his eyes than there is in mine. I drop into a slide as he pulls the trigger. Pain, white hot, burns across my shoulder but I’m still moving, sliding into him. He falls forward, tumbling over and behind me and by the time he’s able to get back up I’ll already be gone.

Outside, finally. It’s started to rain, the sky an angry grey opening up. I’m grateful, it’ll keep the blues grounded. I feel my shoulder and my hand comes away bloody. There’s a groove in my flesh between my neck and shoulder and I’m lucky. Lower or further in and I’d probably be dead.

The far ledge isn’t an option. I don’t have the momentum to make it, so I snake around the outside of the building until I find a place where I can leap across and down to another building. It’s not the best, but from there I’ll be home free.

My feet slip as I land, but I right myself and cling against the wall. Rookie mistake, even discounting the rain. I blink tears out of my eyes and take a deep breath. The glass near my face suddenly spider-webs. I backtrack, then pull myself up to the roof top. Another window spider-webs where I’d been just a second ago. They _really_ don’t want me getting away with this thing, but now that I’m back on the open roof, they’re not going to be able to catch me. 

I kick up a spray of water, running until I can’t feel the pain anymore. Running until the shooters are too far behind me to stand a chance of hitting me. But I’m not running away, I have a destination in mind.


	10. Hate Me If You Have To

I'm soaked to the bone by the time I make it back. My feet ache to my bones and my shoes are filled with water. I push the door open and stumble in. Someone catches me, but as the world swirls to black I remember the last time I ran in the rain.

-

The rooftops are slick from the water. It runs down my face and my neck. It's harder to grip, easier to slip, but I run perilously along a beam. The ground is far below, roads flooded and only the desperate or the uncaring out in this weather.

I'm not running anywhere in particular. More or less I'm running away from things. Away from my feelings, away from Celeste. I have regrets. Letting her get to me, letting her get under my skin. 

Some one calls my name. I glance back and there she is. I move faster, more recklessly, leaping from the beam to a crane and then sliding down the slippery metal to the rooftop. It turns into a race, with me a few steps ahead of Cel at all times as she hounds my heels. 

She runs me into a dead end, and I turn to face her. Maybe I mean to fight, maybe I need to yell but when she grabs my shoulders I deflate. "Cel, leave me alone. I already told you, it's over."

I can't tell if she hates me or not. Her eyes are too dark to tell and with the rain I don't even know if she's crying as hard as I am.

"So I'm not good enough?"

"That's not it." I don't know what it is. I don't know how to tell her that her intensity scares me. Intensity is what killed my mom. Cel needs to run so much that it consumes her. She's more obsessed than I am and I don't think I can watch it consume her. Eventually it's going to get her killed and I don't want to be there to see it.

When I don't elaborate, she makes this disgusted sound, pushing me against the wall. She backs away starting to pace, her hands in her hair. I stare at her helpless, my feet itching to get moving again and run out my emotions.

"You told me you _loved_ me." Her voice is tainted with the venom of a broken heart. I watch her walk away.

-

Voices bring me back to the present. I wonder for a moment if that was when we lost Cel to the blues. It hurts less to think about than it used to. I try to sit up, but someone pushes me back down. I open my eyes and glare at Wraith. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been shot.”

“I have _not_.”

The dark-skinned woman makes a point of pressing her palm against my side. My vision explodes into stars as a sharp, burning pain spreads through me. “God! I didn’t even feel that…!”

“You were running so hard I don’t think you felt anything but the wind.” She eases up, sitting next to me. “Bishop’s in surgery. He started working on Celeste once you got patched up.”

I sit up again, but much more slowly. She lets me. “How long?”

“Just an hour. It’ll be awhile.”

I feel something like cold fear. I want to be in there with her, but I don’t think I could watch it, either. “Kate?”

“Assisting him. Just the two of us right now.”

My fingers knead at the blanket they’d put over me. I start talking. Not really to Wraith so much as at her. “This is my fault. She lost her leg to save me. And if this doesn’t work, I don’t know what she’ll do. No, I know what she’ll do and I don’t think I can stop her. Running was her life, it was _everything_ to her. We don’t even know if she’ll be able to run the same.”

“She’s going to need to relearn everything. Just like anyone else who gets injured and needs a prosthetic.” Wraith puts her hand over mine, stopping my fidgeting. “She’s gotta learn to walk. She’s gonna fall. She’s gonna rage and scream. She’s going to need you to push her, or hold her hand, or listen to her cry. It’s not going to be easy. Are you _really_ ready for that?”

I already know the answer, but I ask. “Why me?” 

“Did you do all this because you were guilty, or because you actually care about her?”

“She nearly got Kate killed, she killed a good man, she… _really_ fucked up, Wraith.”

Wraith just shrugs her shoulders. “And your sister is in there with her life in her hands. Is that irony, or is that forgiveness? Celeste is a stubborn bitch but that doesn’t mean she’s inherently evil.”

Any arguments I might have conjured fall flat, and I deflate. “What if she can’t run the same again?”

“Then she’s gonna need a lot of help. Especially from you.”

Either way, I realize, she’s going to need me. She’ll probably get sick of me, maybe even hate me by the time it’s done. Late in the night, after I’m finally allowed to sit by her and watch her sleep, I think that I’d let her hate me. I’ve already made that choice. I made that choice when I dragged her across the city, half-dead and despondent, to the only person I thought could help.

Bishop amputated Cel’s leg above the knee, and the area where he’d joined the prosthetic was bandaged and wrapped. But I can get a proper look at it now. The color doesn’t quite match her skin. It’s a little too dark, and in the soft lighting from outside it’s too matte in places, and too shiny in others. 

My attention turns back to Cel’s face. Her eyes are open, and she’s been watching me. I put my hand on her arm, then pull it back. “Did I wake you?”

She closes her eyes again. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

_Thank you Faith, you did something wonderful and dangerous, Faith, you give me something to live for, Faith._

Cel must have noticed my scowl, because she puts a hand over mine. “...Thanks. Don’t ever do something this stupid again.”


	11. Rough Edges

Cel insists on walking as soon as possible. It’s not a pretty sight. She barely has the strength and it’s clearly painful for her, but she pushes on, using an old pole to keep herself upright when her leg fails her. The first time I reach out to help she hit me with it.

It’s frustrating. Her pride won’t let her let me help. The second time I try, she yells at me. Every nasty word she can think of, every insult, every dig into the things that we’d done to hurt each other before. I leave her to her misery, running until my legs burn and my eyes sting and I’m too exhausted to even walk.

I know she’s angry, and she’s frustrated. She’s in a dark place and my light isn’t bright enough to see all the corners and cracks. But I thought it would be a little easier. As I trudge across the rooftops back to Bishop’s place, I realize that I hadn’t enjoyed that run. It had just felt so empty.

Running without Cel isn’t the same any more. When I return, she’s laying in bed, staring at the wall and I can see the defeat in her eyes. 

“Cel.”

“What do you want?”

“You have to walk before you can run. You can’t push yourself so hard, not yet.” I sit on the edge of the bed, reaching up and brushing my fingers along her cheek. She looks at me, and her eyes soften, and I think I see a spark of hope.

It takes her a week to walk without help. A week of cursing, a week of angry and bitter tears. A week of holding her at night while she cries angrily into my chest. 

The first time she tries to run, she falls. The second time she falls, she lets me help her up. She has a determined glint in her eyes. The third time, it’s barely a jog, but it’s _something_ and for the first time since the bullet tore through her knee I see a spark of the old Celeste.

Bishop tells me that the hardest part is getting her body to adjust to the new balance with the new leg, and taking to let it heal. I try telling that to Celeste, and she glares at me. And then something strange happens. She relents. She lets herself rest, and takes things slower. 

I watch her sleep, a few days later, until a finger taps my shoulder. I look up at my sister, then get up and follow her out of the room. 

“She’s been doing better,” I say. “Giving her body a chance to catch up and rest after working it out.”

“She’s realising that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and even if she can’t see it yet, she knows you’re there with her. She wants to keep her strength up so that she’ll be able to make it.” Kate wraps an arm around me and squeezes. “When she starts seeing that light, watch out.”

“I hope it’s sooner, rather than later. And not just for her. The longer we’re stuck here in one place, the easier it’ll be for the Blues to find us.”

“Let Wraith and me worry about that. Just stick with Cel.”

I step out of Kate’s grasp, and hug my stomach. “Do you forgive her?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive her completely. But she risked everything for you. Just like you risked everything for me. She loves you. And as long as you don’t let her walk all over you, I’m okay with that.”

“She might be a stubborn bitch.” I start back towards the door. “But she really does have a soft side.”

I’m not sure I’d call it sisterly approval, but I’ll take it. Cel has shifted while I was talking to Kate, and when I slip into bed next to her she rolls over and slips her arm around my waist. She pulls our bodies flush. Cel finds my mouth with hers, and I know she hasn’t been on painkillers lately so I’m more than willing to kiss her back. Desperate for her to touch me, desperate to touch _her._

My hand trails down her thigh and she stiffens. I break the kiss, looking at her. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Cel’s voice is shakey. “It’s okay.” She tangles her hands in my hair, kissing my roughly, bruisingly, rolling me onto my back and pinning me between her legs. 

I groan, frustrated. I can’t remember the last time I touched her like this and she has to pull this dominance crap? “Damn it, Cel, I want to touch you.” 

She cuts me off with her mouth, then lifts her head to gaze at me. It looks like she’s going to say something, but instead, she lower her head, her lips on my neck and her nails dragging down my chest. God, I love her. _God_ , I love her. I grip at her hair, fingers digging painfully into her scalp but that only spurs her on. I look down at her as her lips brush my stomach, and when she meets my eyes I understand just how badly she’s missed this, too.

I’m not sure I can run the next day, my legs feel too much like rubber. But it means that Cel can keep up with me. A light pace, jogging, and it doesn’t wind her. Whether it’s what we did last night or the fact that she can even run at all, but Cel’s smile is radiant. 

“Has hell frozen over or are you smiling?”

She elbows me, and laughs.

In three more days, she’s running. And three more after that she starts keeping up with me. We weave and dash through the tunnels and when we collapse on top of each other at the end of the day I think that maybe tomorrow we can try the rooftops. And she’s ready. She’s so ready.

The jump comes easily for me. It’s not that far and the drop is only a few feet extra, so I roll and bounce to my feet. It’s a good test for Cel. She runs up, then stops, looking at the distance. Then she backs up. But every time she reaches the edge, she stops. 

I call out to her. “You can _do_ this! I know you can. You have to trust me!”

She looks at the distance again, then back to me and shakes her head. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I _can’t_. You should have..”

I’d thought that maybe she was past that, maybe she could see there are things to live for. She needs to make this jump. She _needs_ to. It’s the only way to get her past this. “You can do this. I’m _here_. I’ll catch you if you fall. I _love_ you. _Make the jump_!”

Cel disappears from view again. I can hear her feet pound on the roof top, and then she’s airborne, and she lands, rolling forward. She springs up to her feet and ends up right in my arms. “Told you I’ve got you.”

Nothing is ever perfect. We can leave the city behind but that doesn’t mean we’re home free. It doesn’t mean that we still aren’t going to be hunted, that we can just turn our back on our old home. But for now, we can have a break. For now, we can rest, and live, and be people. People with rough edges. When I look at her, I see a cracked reflection of myself. But as long as we can run, as long as the wind is in our hair and at our backs, we’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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